Full Speed

  "Maybe she has a boyfriend."

  Sills met his gaze. "It wouldn't have been easy. Harlan kept her in her bedroom most of the time."

  "Sounds like he was one mean sonofabitch."

  * * * * *

  Dave waited until Max climbed into the bucket that was attached to the hydraulic lift to Bennett Electric's truck. "You got everything you need?" he asked.

  "Yea. Once I attach the recording transmitter, I'll hook into the telephone line and run a test."

  "Look, Max, I'd go up in the bucket if it weren't for my vertigo."

  "Naw, I personally want to get a look at Santoni's place."

  Physically finding Santoni's house had been no easier than Muffin getting the information that the property wasn't listed to Nick Santoni. Tom Bennett of Bennett Electric had been able to locate property belonging to a Michael Juliano in his computer. He'd given Max a county map and marked the area in red, but many of the dirt roads leading to the residence were unmarked. Max and Dave had combed the mountain until they found the massive brick wall that enclosed what appeared to be a compound of sorts.

  "Don't forget to take pictures," Dave said. "Oh God, I hope we didn't forget the camera."

  "I've already told you I've got it. Five times I've told you."

  "Just want to make sure."

  "Take me up."

  Dave pressed a button, and the bucket rose slowly upward. Once Max was in position, he went to work. Soon it would be possible to access incoming and outgoing calls on Santoni's line.

  * * * * *

  Jamie had spent the day cleaning the cabin and working on her story, filling the pages of her notebook with her impressions of Rawlins and the town of Sweet Pea, as well as the faces she'd seen in the congregation. The bottom line: People needed hope, and Harlan Rawlins had given them that. Because so much money had come into his ministry he was able to make a difference in some ways, but he'd been more interested in lining his pockets and paying off those who were extorting money from him. Had he not been so greedy, had he not owed the mob hush money, Harlan Rawlins would have been able to make staggering changes with his ministry.

  Jamie found herself wondering about the man. Had he always been a phony? she mused. Or had he started out with good motives, only to be seduced by money? And what about rumors of affairs and possible spousal abuse? What did the mob have on Harlan that he'd been willing to pay so much money to keep quiet?

  * * * * *

  It was after 6:00 p.m. by the time Max and Dave arrived back at the cabin. Jamie had bathed and dressed in a white denim skirt and navy knit top, minus the push-up bra. Her blonde hair hung free, falling to her shoulders.

  Max took one look at her and arched one brow. "Wow. Your new friend is going to take one look at you in that outfit and forget about all his problems. Maybe I should go as a chaperon."

  "I'm too old for a chaperon, Max, but thanks just the same. Where have you guys been all day?"

  "Maybe you should sit down first," Dave said, "because you're not going to believe it."

  Jamie looked at Max. "Oh, yeah?" she said.

  "We found Santoni's place," he told her.

  Her jaw dropped. "For real?" She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice. "What's it like?"

  "Nice hideout," he said, "surrounded by what looks like the Great Wall of China."

  Dave nodded. "Max attached a recording transmitter to his telephone line so we could monitor his calls."

  "Wow, we're finally getting somewhere," she said. "Did you happen to get a look at Santoni?"

  Max shook his head. He looked disappointed. "I wish. The place is under heavy guard. We had to do the job and get out so we wouldn't attract attention." He didn't look happy as he walked over to his laptop and sat down.

  "We have pictures of his place," Dave said. "Or should I say his fortress." He handed Jamie several photos.

  "Looks like a prison," she said.

  "It's secure," Max told her as he checked his E-mail. "He's got almost as much security on his place as I do on mine. Of course, what I use is more sophisticated."

  "Yeah, but you don't have a herd of Doberman pinschers walking the grounds," Dave said.

  "I would love to know what Santoni looks like," Jamie said. Even as she said it, she hoped she would get the opportunity later. She suspected Santoni was the one threatening Michael, but what she didn't know was whether he would show up personally to meet with Michael or send one of his men.

  "What are you doing?" Jamie asked Max.

  "Muffin is sending me what stats she has on Santoni. The reason we couldn't find anything at first is because he has everything in his sister's name and she's deceased."

  "You're not thinking of trying to get into his place, are you?"

  "There's no need," Max said. "We wouldn't find anything in his residence. That would make him vulnerable to possible search and seizure if he got busted. If the cops even know where he lives," he added. "I figure he's operating out of the back room of one of his businesses under an assumed name. Hopefully, we'll hear something in a phone conversation."

  "What's next?"

  "We're going to grab some gear and equipment and spend the night near Santoni's place," he said. "We have to be within range of the transmitter in order to tap in to his phone calls. Dave and I found a shack in the woods not far from the house. You can tell it hasn't been used in a while."

  "It sounds dangerous."

  "Damn right," Dave said. "The place is full of spiderwebs, not to mention ..." He paused and glanced at Max. "Dust mites."

  "Will you be spending the night out there?" Jamie asked. Not only was she anxious at the risk they were taking, but she also didn't relish the thought of being alone at night in the cabin.

  "I'll take the first watch," Dave said. "No sense us both being there."

  Max looked at Jamie. "I'll stay with Dave for a while and try to be back by the time you get home. You are coming back tonight, I assume." He gave her outfit another once-over.

  Jamie tossed him a look. "Very funny. I should be home before midnight."

  "That's kind of late, isn't it?"

  "I'm not meeting him until eight-thirty."

  "I hope he's not married, too," Dave said. When Max and Jamie looked at him, he shrugged. "I know you and Jamie aren't really married, but this guy she's going out with doesn't know it. What if he has a wife? What if she's the jealous type?"

  "He's not married," Jamie said.

  Max looked troubled. "Maybe you and I should talk further before you meet this guy. I don't even know where the two of you are going."

  "Would the two of you relax?" Jamie said. "I'm having dinner with the guy. He's probably going to want to talk about his sister. I'm going to listen to him, try to be supportive, and then I'm coming home." That wasn't all she was going to do, but that's all she was going to tell them for the moment. She hoped when she left Michael Juliano she would have big news for Max. A name or a face.

  "Would you mind driving Bennett's truck tonight?" Max asked. "I'd like to have Muffin around."

  "No problem."

  * * * * *

  Jamie had to stop and ask for directions twice, but she finally managed to find the Italian restaurant Michael had told her about. The sun was setting. She searched the area and found a small sports bar located within a block of the restaurant.

  She parked in a side alley and waited. She did not wish to be seen by Michael. She had no idea if he planned to meet his party at that particular bar; all she could do was wait and watch for any sign of him.

  The streetlights flickered on, but Jamie was hidden in shadows. She hoped a policeman didn't drive by and find her illegally parked, because she would have a difficult time explaining why she was there.

  Shortly before eight, Jamie spied Michael's Jaguar. She instinctively ducked, then remembered he couldn't see her. She raised the binoculars she'd found beneath the front seat; obviously Max and Dave had used them earlier. She could see Michael's car perfectly, but she
could barely make out his profile in the dark interior. She watched him select a parking place near the door of the bar. He pulled into the vacant slot and waited. Jamie waited as well.

  The minutes ticked by slowly. Jamie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and hummed a tune under her breath. A black Jeep Cherokee pulled into the parking lot and a couple emerged, young and smiling.

  Jamie sighed and shifted in the seat. What if the person Michael was meeting had arrived early? For all she knew the man could have been inside sipping cold beer and watching a sports program on TV before she got there. Maybe she was on a wild-goose chase.

  Jamie perked up as a silver SUV pulled into the parking lot. She put the binoculars to her eyes and followed the vehicle. The driver chose a slot near Michael's. Jamie watched him climb from the SUV, but it was hard to get a good look at his face in the dim light. His hair was long and dark and hung in what looked like a ponytail down his back. As he started for the front door of the bar, Michael climbed from his Jaguar.

  She waited until they were both inside before she grabbed a flashlight and her notepad and climbed from the truck. She hurried toward the parking lot and to the SUV; then, checking to make sure nobody was around, she turned on the flashlight and shone it through the back window. All at once, something hit the glass hard. Jamie's heart gave a lurch, and she cried out as two angry-looking Doberman pinschers pressed their faces against the window, teeth bared, snarling and barking as though they could come through the glass with very little trouble.

  Their barks were deafening. She had to get away before they drew attention to her. Jamie quickly copied down the license tag number. She stood and turned.

  She was face-to-face with the longhaired man.

  "What do you think you're doing?" he said, his voice barely audible among the barking dogs.

  Jamie felt a chill race up her spine as she stared into the flat, emotionless eyes of the man before her. They were as black as his long braided hair, as black as the slacks and silk shirt he wore. Was it Nick Santoni? He looked like a mobster. She felt a sudden adrenaline rush.

  "I asked you a question," he said.

  There was nobody around; the sky seemed to have darkened considerably in the past few minutes. Jamie knew she needed a damn good answer. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" she said, trying to make herself heard over the barking dogs. "I'm copying down this license tag number. You got a problem with that?"

  "This is my vehicle."

  "No way. I know who this SUV belongs to."

  From his pocket, the man pulled a key ring, a small black object attached to it. He pressed it, and there was a bleeping sound. Jamie knew he had just unlocked the door. Probably planned to shove her inside and take off, she thought. He wouldn't have to shoot her; the dogs would kill her instantly.

  Shit.

  The man opened the driver's door and reached inside for a pack of cigarettes. He shouted at the dogs, and they grew quiet.

  "I guess this is your vehicle," Jamie said. "I thought it, um, belonged to someone else."

  His gaze was unflinching. Jamie knew it would be so easy for him to put a gun to her head and order her in. Max would have no idea what had happened.

  "I thought it belonged to the woman my husband is seeing," she said at last. "I don't know much about vehicles, but this looks exactly like hers. Only I don't think she has dogs."

  In one easy move, he snatched Jamie's notepad from her hand, tossed it into the front seat, and closed the door. He hit the automatic lock before she could protest.

  "Hey, give that back," she said. "It has all my information in it."

  He turned and started for the bar. The dogs were barking again. Jamie panicked. The last thing she needed was for Nick Santoni or one of his men to have her notes in his possession. "Wait a minute!" she called out. "You can't just take my notepad!"

  He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in her face. "Report me to the police if you like," he said, "but stay the hell away from my vehicle."

  He gave her a long silent look before walking away.

  "Dammit!" Jamie said aloud. What was she going to do now? She couldn't very well break into the vehicle; the dogs would eat her alive before she reached her notepad. Without wasting another second, she hurried across the street toward Bennett's truck. It wasn't until she was safely inside with the doors locked that she realized she should have at least checked the license tag again and written it down when she got into the truck. She tried to remember the numbers but couldn't. She couldn't risk going back over, even in her truck. If Michael saw her he would suspect something was up.

  * * * * *

  Jamie met Michael in front of Jeno's at precisely 8:30. He smiled and gave her a hug. "Where'd you park?" he asked.

  She pointed. "I'm over there. My truck was giving me trouble, so I borrowed one from a friend."

  "A male friend?" Michael said, arching both brows. "Should I be jealous?"

  "My friend is happily married." Jamie was surprised he could be so jovial after meeting with someone who had probably just threatened him with extortion. "Are you OK?"

  "Uh? Oh, yes, it has all been taken care of."

  "What do you mean, it has been taken care of?"

  "I told him I would go to the police if he came around again."

  Jamie just stared. People like Nick Santoni weren't afraid of the police. She was about to say as much when he changed the subject.

  "You know, when you're ready to trade in that relic of yours, I might be able to help you find a good deal on a car. I have a friend in the business."

  "Fleas loves that old truck," she said.

  "Maybe you could buy him a new truck. I hope you're hungry. This restaurant has great food. I'd love to own the place, but Jeno wants to keep it in the family, you know, husband and wife team. He's struggling to make ends meet, poor fellow."

  Jamie noted the line that started inside and wound its way out. "It looks packed to me."

  "Yes, but his overhead is high, and he has trouble with vandals. This is not a great neighborhood. And to tell you the truth, I don't think he and his wife are good business managers. I could really turn a profit in a place like this."

  "I hope you made reservations."

  "We don't need them." He offered his arm, and Jamie took it. He led her inside, where the air hung heavy with the smell of garlic, Italian sausage, and baked bread. Waitresses bustled about in peasant-style uniforms, and a short balding man was frantically cleaning the only empty table available.

  "Wait right here," Michael said. "I'm going to talk to Jeno." He walked over to the man, leaned forward, and spoke close to his ear. Jeno immediately stopped what he was doing and looked up. He nodded curtly at Michael.

  "Jeno is clearing our table now," Michael said, rejoining Jamie.

  She felt his hand at the small of her back, felt him prod her forward. "But what about those people waiting in line?"

  "I'd ask them to join us, but there's no room."

  Jamie could literally feel the heated stares as Jeno seated them and handed her a menu. "Thank you," she said. His gaze met hers. He was not a happy man. He walked away without a word.

  Michael touched her hand. "You look so serious; what's wrong?"

  Jamie shrugged. Perhaps she was being overly sensitive, but she could almost feel the hostility in the room. "I guess I'm feeling weird for taking the only available table. I wouldn't have minded waiting."

  "Jeno was happy to oblige us, Jane. Now, if this were my place, there would be no waiting line. I'd expand."

  "I like the quaintness," Jamie said. "It's so cozy." Jamie noticed several windows along one side had been boarded over. "What happened there?"

  "Like I said, this isn't a great neighborhood. Two weeks ago, someone broke the windows. Jeno hasn't been able to afford to fix them because something happened to his walk-in freezer. He's closed on Sunday and Monday, so he walked in Tuesday morning to the smell of rotting meat. I'm sure that set him back. I offered to he
lp, but he's a proud man, so what can I do?" He took a sip of water. "But I'll tell you this: For the right price I'd take this off his hands."

  * * * * *

  Max watched the rearview mirror as they turned off the highway and took a series of dirt roads that led to Santoni's place. It was shortly after nine; the sun had finally disappeared behind the mountains.

  Max took the road almost directly across from Santoni's. He cut his headlights, stopped, and waited until Dave climbed from the truck.

  "This place is probably crawling with rattlesnakes," Dave muttered. "Did you know diamondback rattlesnakes have been known to reach lengths of eight feet?"

  "Good thing you're wearing steel-toed work boots," Max said.

  Dave quietly closed the door.

  "Are we there yet?" Muffin asked.

  "Yeah. Dave is going to lead the way with the flashlight. I figure the less light the better."

  "How dangerous is this?" Muffin asked.

  "It's far enough away from Santoni's that nobody should venture this way. If we were any farther we wouldn't be within range of the transmitter."

  Max followed Dave down a narrow road and parked beside the ramshackle cabin. He climbed from the truck and picked up a box containing the equipment while Dave pulled out his backpack and other gear. He fastened a mask over his face before stepping through the cabin door. Inside, Max lit a lantern, and they went to work.

  "You need to get out of here," Dave said, his voice muffled behind the mask. "I can do the rest."

  Max looked at him. "I should probably stay with you."

  "I'm more concerned about dust mites than I am Santoni or his men showing up. Now get out of here and let a genius do his work."

  * * * * *

  Rudy Marconi parked his SUV in front of Nick's house. He had made the drive back from Knoxville in record time, even though it would have been difficult for most drivers to concentrate on the winding mountain roads with two Dobermans pacing the back restlessly. But Rudy kept the dogs with him at all times. They were young and still in training, but he was patient where his dogs were concerned.